


On Chicken Nuggets and Christmas Trees:  Remus Lupin’s Path to Finding Happiness

by meditationsinemergencies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Oral Sex, Widower!Remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27994650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meditationsinemergencies/pseuds/meditationsinemergencies
Summary: In this Muggle AU, following the death of his wife, Remus Lupin is disenchanted as ever with Christmas until he meets Hermione Granger.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 95
Collections: Pen15 is Mightier Prompt Exchange 2020





	On Chicken Nuggets and Christmas Trees:  Remus Lupin’s Path to Finding Happiness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adavison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adavison/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Pen15isMightierPromptExchange2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Pen15isMightierPromptExchange2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Write something worthy of a Hallmark Xmas movie with characters from Harry Potter, Sherlock, MCU, or a combination thereof.
> 
> Fluff, Hallmark Xmas Movie Tropes, and smut encouraged.
> 
> This work is for my dear friend A.
> 
> Also, as this is for A, who is my beautiful and majestical beta, this work is unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own, and I apologise for how many of them there probably are.

Even though it was a Saturday, Remus Lupin still woke up at five o’clock in the morning. He didn’t need to look at his nightstand to know what time it was; the sounds outside told him, the years he spent in the military taught him to be aware of and know his surroundings. He shut his eyes and thought, for a second, that perhaps he could fall back asleep, but his back was hurting and he was unable to reposition himself. Opening his eyes again he looked down at his right arm to see tousled blue hair peeking out from beneath a cocoon of covers. The sight before him was bittersweet; his wife used to sleep just like their boy, right against him and buried within a pile of covers. 

Teddy, who was four, was warm against his body, and the boy sweats in his sleep, just like he himself did. Remus knew that, due to the early morning hour, moving his son risked waking him, and he knew a growing boy needed his sleep. He winced as pain shot through his back and down through his hips. 

He stretched out his toes, to try and ease the tightening of his lower back, pulling the tension down his back and hips and out through his toes. He groaned, gritting his teeth, and, as he did so, Teddy moved quite wildly to the other side of the bed, flopping into a position similar to one he slept in as a baby. Relief swept through him, and Remus repositioned to lie on his side, pulling his legs up, to stretch out his muscles. 

In the dark, he could make out the features of his son’s face just so. In so many ways Teddy was like a copy of his mother: the shape of his nose, the freckles scattered across his cheeks, the colour of his lips, and, now, the colour of his hair. 

Several weeks prior, Teddy had seen a picture of his mum, hidden away in a box in the back of Remus’ closest. Teddy, like most young children, loved to explore and pilfer, assuming anything in the house to be theirs to do so. At dinner, the young boy, clutching the picture to his chest, told Remus that he wanted blue hair as mummy had, holding out the picture for Remus to see.

The man stared down at the polaroid of his late wife. Her bright-blue hair pulled back in a ponytail, wavy tendrils framing her heart-shaped face. She was smiling broadly, as she posed next to an absurdly large Christmas tree. It had been their first holiday as a couple, and she had convinced Remus that,  _ of course,  _ he needed a Christmas tree—a very large one in his very small home. Her smile was one of mischievous victory. 

He had never really cared for Christmas, not even when he was a small child—he found he was always left disappointed, and this disappointment continued as he grew older. 

Growing up, his family life wasn’t ideal. His parents were hardworking, but there was never enough money to decorate a large tree, to have stockings filled with sweets and trinkets, to wake up on Christmas morning to find Santa had come. During his last few years in secondary school, he enjoyed the time spent with friends around the holidays; from his job after school, he could scrounge together enough money to buy a gift for a friend or a girl he liked, but there was a part of him that couldn’t help but be slightly envious, just a touch sad that he didn’t have what they had—not the presents and lavish foods, but the warmth of a loving and supportive family. 

Up until he met Nymphadora Tonks, he had never once decorated for Christmas or cared to do so, but she had brought something out in him, and, ultimately, she had given him a sense of family, something he’d never had. 

And so, he bought the absurdly large tree that night: They’d struggled to tie it to the top of her car, they’d struggled to get it set up in his home—the tree knocking into door frames and walls, needles scattered all across the floor, and they’d struggled to figure out how to get it into its base, laughing at how frustrated the other seemed, and Dora insisting that it was all part of the fun in the holiday. As he had no lights and no ornaments, things they would buy the following day, the pair sat on Remus’ couch and admired the beauty of the gigantic, deep-green, bare tree, before making love on the sofa. And while Remus still didn’t fully appreciate the bells and whistles of Christmas, he did enjoy the holidays that he had gotten to spend with her.

Pulling him from his thoughts, his son inquired, “So, can I, Daddy? Can I have blue hair?” The boy was holding his small hand out towards him, clearly wanting the polaroid back. 

With a soft smile, Remus nodded, handing the picture back, “Absolutely!” His voice a feigned excitement, trying to pull himself out of his own crippling sadness. “We’ll talk with Drommie tomorrow. I bet she’d know exactly how to do it. You agree?”

The boy, picture clasped in his hand, shoving a chicken nugget into his mouth with his other hand, nodded vigorously, “Yes! Drommie knows how to do everything, doesn’t she? Thank you, Daddy. I can’t wait to be just like Mummy was.” 

Remus smiled widely and popped an entire chicken nugget into his mouth, too, making his son giggle. Most nights, he and Teddy ate as if they were  _ both  _ four. He didn’t see the point in cooking two separate meals for them, and so he tended to only eat a varied meal with sharp flavours and contrasting colours on the evenings he and Teddy would eat with his mother-in-law, Andromeda, or on the rare occasion, they'd go to dinner with his best mate, Sirius. 

Now, looking at Teddy in the darkness before the coming morning, he thought of the various colours his wife had dyed her hair. She had been partial to pink, but she didn’t discriminate, as long as it was bright. It had always caused her a bit of fuss at work as a detective inspector, but she was so damn good at her job, that her boss was willing to see past the eccentricities of her appearance. 

As the sun began to peek through the shades of the bedroom, Teddy began to stir. Most nights, the small sweet boy slept in his room all night, but at least once a week, he’d find his way into bed with his father, snuggling into him. Remus didn’t mind. He enjoyed the warmth of his son’s body, that little boy smell of crayons and dirt. He knew that one day Teddy would no longer wake up needing him, and so Remus didn’t mind it in the least. 

As soon as Teddy’s eyes opened, he sat up, excitedly and proclaimed, “Exactly one month until Christmas! One month until Santa! This is the best time of the year, Daddy. At school, we are going to make ornaments and write letters to Santa, and Drommie says that after school she and I are going to make  _ so  _ many biscuits and sweets. Can we get a tree today, Daddy?” 

Remus couldn’t help but laugh at his son’s immediate excitement. This was one area where he was definitely not like his mother. Dora had always been slow to rise, grumpy even, until she’d laid in bed for a while; she'd always woken up slowly. 

With a smile, he asked, "How do you know it’s exactly one month until Christmas?” 

Throwing his arms up in the air, Teddy said in a knowing voice, “Because yesterday was November twenty-four! I saw it on the school calendar yesterday! Today is November twenty-five! Christmas is December twenty-five! One month! Can we get a tree?”

Remus’ stomach began to hurt at the thought of another holiday without his wife. This would make the fourth Christmas. It was true that he enjoyed the holidays with Dora, but he had honestly tolerated a lot of it. He didn’t like all the decorations, the parties, the eggnog, the treats, the mistletoe, the bloody singing. It was all excess to him. It all seemed like such a chore. And, since she had died, he was sad to admit that he had lost any Christmas spirit he'd had. 

Remus was truly grateful for his son, grateful that he had this beautiful boy to watch grow, but he had been so angry when he lost her, and he hadn’t quite fully stopped being angry that his wife and his son’s mother had been ripped from them. He wasn't as sad anymore, he was more bitter than anything. 

When it came to preparing for the holidays, he was endlessly thankful for Andromeda and Sirius—they’d helped him wrap presents, play Santa, and sparsely decorate for Teddy’s sake, but, up until this year, Teddy had been so young that Remus could get by with just enough, but now? Now, Teddy was in school, and he was wondrously deep into the magic of Christmas. This was something that Remus was going to have to face full-on for his son, but he truly didn’t enjoy the thought of it and was worried at just exactly how he'd pull it off. 

“No, Teddy. It’s far too early to get a tree. It’d grow brown long before Santa came," he reached over and pulled the boy into an embrace. 

He tugged away from him and sat on his heels, "Wait! We’ll get two trees. One for now and one for later.” His son held up two pudgy fingers, a look of brilliance on his face, as if he had figured it all out. 

Remus reached over and tousled the boy’s hair, “No. No tree yet.” 

“Awwww. Daddy! But…" his arms crossed against his chest. 

In an attempt to stifle the conversation, he asked, “You want to go out for breakfast? Chocolate chip pancakes  _ and _ hot chocolate? And, I think Uncle Sirius is going to visit today. That’ll be fun, eh?”

This bit of news distracted Teddy entirely from his want for a Christmas tree. “Will you let me ride on his motorbike? I’m bigger now. I’ve grown like a weed according to Drommie.”

“No. You’re not riding on it, but you can sit on it all you want and pretend to ride it, eh?”

The boy shrugged and quickly got out from underneath the covers, and he proclaimed, “I’ve got to pee!” 

Remus chuckled to himself as he watched his son quickly run out of the room, getting out of bed himself. 

—

The Lupin’s life functioned on a routine, and it worked quite well for the pair. Saturday and Sundays were always spent with Teddy by his side—if he were to see a friend, such as Sirius, Teddy was always there with him. Throughout the week, Teddy was in school until around lunch, when Andromeda would pick him up while Remus was still at work. Most days, Andromeda and Teddy would run errands together before heading back to her house for baking or crafts or playing. Some evenings, when Remus got off of work, Andromeda would insist upon Remus staying and the pair of them having dinner with her, but most evenings he would thank Andromeda fifteen thousand times for all her help before gathering Teddy and all his things to head home for baths and books and bed. Then, once Teddy was asleep, Remus would either read or mark papers until he too would retire to bed. 

Remus enjoyed this routine. He wasn’t interested in doing anything else but being Teddy’s father, being a good teacher to his students, and being the best son-in-law he could be to Andromeda. He knew that he wasn’t the best friend in the world, but Sirius and the others understood Remus’ priorities and his insistence upon being constant and steady and present for his son, something he hadn't been given. 

Remus had grown up in a household that was sparse in terms of affection, and his parents gave him little support in terms of his education and aspirations. Financially, he couldn’t have possibly afforded to attend university, but he was desperate to continue his education. In his last year in school, his literature teacher informed him that if he joined the military, then when he was done serving, his schooling would be paid for, and while Remus had never wanted to join the military, he knew that this was, without a doubt, his best option and so, at eighteen, he joined the British Army. Once enlisted, he found a sense of security and purpose in the army, and he planned on making a career out of it, but at the end of his second term, at twenty-six, he suffered a serious injury to his lower back; he was then discharged and allotted the funds to attend university. By thirty, he had a degree in education with a specialization in Literature and Rhetoric. He began teaching secondary school, and he truly loved his job—there wasn’t anything else he could imagine himself doing. Outside of being a father, it gave him an immense sense of pride and fulfilment.

On a typical Monday morning, half an hour before the morning bell would ring, Remus heard a knock at his classroom door. Looking up, the headmaster of the school, Albus Dumbledore, was standing with a very pretty woman in the doorway to his room.

If he wasn’t used to looking at Dumbledore, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed the woman. His boss was known for his wild dress. Today, the man wore a deep purple suit with a creamed ruffled shirt beneath. The man’s long white hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, his half-moon spectacles resting against the bridge of his nose. 

“Remus! My boy! This is Hermione Granger. She’s a coordinator for Youth Empowered Action.” The man gestured toward the woman and smiled. Remus nodded, “Nice to meet you, Miss Granger.” 

Dumbledore rested his hand upon Hermione’s shoulder gently, “Remus Lupin is the best Literature teacher we’ve ever had.”

  
Remus laughed, “Don’t lie to the woman, Albus.” He stood up from his desk and walked towards them, straightening some papers on his lectern as he went. “How can I help you?” 

“Well, Miss Granger will be doing a presentation during the student’s lunch hour to try and recruit students interested in activism." 

The woman cleared her throat and spoke in a lovely honeyed voice, “We do several events during the holidays, and it’s a great time of the year for young people to begin their involvement in charities, as well as activist events. Headmaster Dumbledore said that he believed you would, more than likely, have some students you’d recommended for the program.” 

Remus watched her speak with rapt attention, and he’d barely heard what she said. Admittedly, Remus had not thought about any woman but his wife since Sirius had dragged him out to a karaoke bar where Dora was doing a remarkable rendition of a Ramones song, so to catch himself admiring this stranger—-her chestnut curls, soft ringlets falling around her shoulders, her golden-brown eyes with dark lashes, her poised posture, was something he was taken aback by. 

He cleared his throat, “How many students are you looking for, Miss…?'

“Granger," she replied, seeming a bit annoyed that he had forgotten so quickly. 

He felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m a bit bad with names. Do forgive me."

“That’s quite alright," she said before continuing, "On average, we have ten or so students who assist us. I’m looking for students who may be high-risk for dropping out, students who may benefit from a structured, purposeful environment outside of school. Of course, if you have some students who don’t match those criteria, but are interested in activism, we would never turn them away. We can take all the help we can get.” 

Nodding, he ran his hand across the scruff of his cheek and chin, “I will send about fifteen or so down to you at lunch. I’ve got a number in mind.”

She beamed, “Wonderful! Thank you!” She stuck out her hand for him to shake. He took her hand in his—it was warm, and he felt a bit excited by the simple gesture. 

Dumbledore excused them as the bell rang, and he nodded goodbye as he heard his students coming down the hall.

Later, as his students did their grammar warm-up, his thoughts, usually on the day’s lesson or something he and Teddy were doing later, turned to her; she was so youthful, so energetic, so passionate. Remus felt a bit energized just by her presence. 

He joined the group of students he’d recruited in the lunchroom to see her speak, and he found that he was immediately a bit taken with her, the way she spoke, the way she moved her hands, the way she held herself, and how she seemed to understand the particular way one needs to speak to teenagers to seem informative and helpful but not condescending. 

At one point, their eyes met as she spoke, and he noticed that he had been smiling. The small smile that began to play on her lips left him with a faint blush on his cheeks. 

Suddenly, he felt an arm on his shoulder, it was Dumbledore. “I need to speak with you concerning the department chair meeting tomorrow. It'll only take a moment.”

  
Without getting to speak to Hermione again, Remus left the cafeteria and followed Albus to his office. There they spoke for a long while, much longer than the man had promised, and, then, he had to run off copies for his next class’ test. By the time he was done, the lunch period was dwindling, she had already left. 

He wasn’t sure why he felt so disappointed that he didn’t get to see her again, but he was.  _ Oh well _ , he thought.  _ What did you think would come of it anyway, old man?  _

— 

The remainder of the week passed like any normal one until he checked his mobile Friday afternoon to find a text from Sirius. 

**SB** **_:_ ** **Oye. Mate. You need to get out. I’ve been invited to a gigantic Christmas party. One of Harry’s friends. You’re coming as my date. You need to get out. I’ve already confirmed it with Drommie. You can’t so no. Be mad. I don’t care. You’re still coming.**

Remus let out an irritated sigh and then a bit of a laugh that Sirius called his mother-in-law Drommie instead of her name. She was just Drommie now, forever and ever, even to Sirius. But, then, irritation crept back in, Sirius couldn't just force him to go do stuff. 

**RL: Don’t you have a girlfriend or something to take to the party?**

**SB: Now, come on. You know you’re my favourite party date. Always have been.**

**RL: Yes, well, I’m not going.**

**SB: You are. Teddy is really excited to spend the night with Drommie.**

**RL: You told him?**

**SB: He was there when I called Drommie. She had me on speaker while she made him a sandwich.**

**RL: Dammit, Sirius. I don’t want to leave him.**

**SB: He is excited. He will have fun. He needs a little independence from you. Harry agrees.**

Remus stared at this text, moving his thumbs over the keypad, wanting to, again, say no, but then he thought back to the conversations he had also had with Harry, Sirius' godson. Harry was a primary school teacher; he was really quite good with children and extremely good at his job. He trusted Harry's opinion on the matter, and perhaps Teddy did need a little independence, a little time without his father. 

**RL: Fine.**

Sirius replied with a series of champagne and beer emojis at which Remus rolled his eyes.

When Remus arrived at his mother-in-law’s he found that Sirius had not been wrong, Teddy was extremely excited to get to spend the night with Drommie. This made him feel much better about the whole ordeal, and he found that he was a tiny bit excited about going to the Christmas party. He hadn’t seen Harry in ages, and so it would be nice to talk to him, to get some time to chat with Sirius, too. 

He slipped his phone out of his pocket the next morning while Teddy was eating cereal. 

**  
** **RL: What time is the party? What time are you picking me up? How do I need to dress? Is it formal? Whose party is this anyway? What time will you have me home?”**

**SB: Blimey... Uhm… 7. 6:45. Normal holiday party. Friend of Harry’s. No idea.**

Sirius had been late picking Remus up. This did not surprise him, but he was shocked that it didn’t annoy him as much as it used to. Plus, he supposed it didn’t matter if you were late to a Christmas party—people were always coming and going as they pleased. When they arrived half an hour late, he realized that Sirius had not exaggerated when he said it was a gigantic party, however, it was a gigantic party in a not-so gigantic home.

They knocked on the door and a tall, handsome, dirty-blonde haired man answered. “Hello! I’m Cormac! The hostess had made me the doorman. I do her bidding, so please do come in. Your coats can go over there. Drinks and food are that way.” 

Sirius quickly ended up leaving Remus by himself with a glass of eggnog. He didn’t care. This was how it had always been. Sirius the social butterfly. Remus the quiet academic. He kept his eyes peeled for Harry or Ginny but he really didn’t mind the solitude. Observing. Listening. Thinking. 

He was surprised when he felt a small hand on the back of his arm and vaguely familiar voice, “Remus? Right?” 

As he turned, he saw her—the woman from school earlier that week, Hermione. Quite suddenly, his heartbeat picked up, and his mouth felt very dry. Nodding, he took a sip of his eggnog to try and quell the dryness which, turned out, didn't work. “Yes. Remus. Hermione?” 

She nodded, “Yes! How did you end up here?”

A bit unsure of himself he said, “Oh, Uhm, I’m sorry for intruding.” 

“No. No! That’s the purpose of a gigantic Christmas party. Bring people together. People you don’t know. People other guests don’t know.” 

“Ahh.” He took another sip of his drink, looking around the crowded room, “Sirius Black is a friend of mine. He brought me along. His godson invited him. Harry Potter.”

Her face lit up like the Christmas tree in the corner. “Harry is my best friend. We went to school together.” 

Mentally, Remus cursed.  _ Twenty years younger than me. Bloody hell.  _

“I’ve known Harry for a long time, as well. He’s a great man.” 

“Absolutely. He’s the best. Thank you, by the way, for the students you recommended. All of them are going to volunteer.”

“I’m glad that they worked out. They’re all great kids, and some of them really need this.” 

For a moment they were quiet as they stood there, Hermione occasionally waving to someone across the room. Turning back towards him she said, "So, tell me about yourself, Remus Lupin.” She cocked her head to the side as she spoke, and her whole face seemed to smile when she did. 

He laughed and shook his head, “There’s not much to tell.”

Just then Sirius walked up and slapped Remus on the arm. “Ah, Remus, I see you’ve met our lovely host. Lovely host, this is my best mate and world’s best father and teacher Remus Lupin. He’s a bit of a recluse, hasn’t been out of the house in ages and….”

Remus elbowed him, stopping Sirius mid-sentence. Hermione must have taken this as a cue to interrupt as she said, “Oh, we’ve met. Earlier this week.”

Sirius gave him a look of piqued curiosity, “You have?” 

With a roll of his eyes, Remus said, “She came to do a presentation at the school. To get some volunteers for charity and activism work this month.” 

She chimed in, “Yep. He was very helpful. Recommended some great kids.” 

“Excellent! I’m going to get another drink and to have some of those delicious little quiches you made. How you are so good at everything you do, Hermione. I’ll never know.” He winked at the pair and walked off.

“You’re a father? And a recluse? You said there was nothing interesting about you,” she quipped teasingly. 0.

Remus’ smile was sheepish, and he shrugged. “I’m not a recluse, though. I’m a single parent to a four-year-old. Life doesn’t allow for me to be as social as some people.” He gestured his head in the direction that Sirius had gone with a roll of his eyes. 

Moving a bit closer to him she said, “Tell me about your four-year-old!” 

The woman was nothing short of enthusiastic, and he had to admire that about her. “Ah. Yes. Teddy. Like I said, he’s four. He is a bundle of energy. He’s smart as a whip. And, like his mother was, he is as cheeky as can be, it’s a wonderful trait, but it’s a bit exhausting at times.” 

He could see her brain working, stringing together the phrase “single-parent” and the usage of “was” in reference to Dora. It was easier this way. He hated explaining it. It was easier to subtly inform people and then move on. 

She paused before speaking as if she were considering saying something else. Before she could say anything, he spoke, regaling some anecdote about Teddy, which made her laugh. 

He continued to talk, to tell her things Teddy said and did, funny things, things that had possibly irritated him at the time but amused him now. They spoke for a long while about him before she said, “I think I’d like Teddy. Is his name Theodore? Or Edward?” 

“Edward. After my…” he hesitated, “my late wife’s father.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” her eyes were a warm-brown and he felt that when she said this, she truly meant it. Sometimes, when people acknowledged the death of his wife, they were so uncomfortable that their words were forced and insincere. Hermione, he found, was anything but insincere. 

He shrugged, trying to not dismiss the topic, but to move it around for another time, “So, why do you throw such a massive Christmas party?” 

“Well…” she began, “ I love Christmas. Everything about it, but I’m an only child, and my parents passed away when I was younger. I don’t have any family to celebrate with. At the beginning of every December, I throw a massive Christmas party to sort of, you know, kick off the holiday season.”

“You’re quite the opposite of me then.” 

She raised her eyebrows, “Oh? You don’t like Christmas?” 

He shook his head, “No. I never have. Growing up we never celebrated it like other families did. I sort of grew to resent it. Then, you know, my wife died just when I was coming around to it…” He laughed a bit, placing his hands on his chest, “And now, I, The Grinch himself, has a four-year-old who, naturally, adores the holiday. He tried to convince me to get a tree last week.”

She put her hands on her hips, “And, why didn’t you, you Grinch?” She smiled mischievously at him. 

Throwing his hands up in the air he said, “A real tree would die before Christmas morning, Hermione!”

“Then you get another. Come on, now. Think it through,” she said with a shrug.

“That’s exactly what Teddy said.” 

Smiling, she replied, “Teddy is brilliant, then.” 

Not long after, Hermione was pulled away by another guest, and Remus was left to himself again. He found that her absence left him feeling a bit melancholy, and that feeling in itself made him feel even more melancholy. He didn’t need to have a crush on anyone, let alone a friend of Harry’s. 

As the evening dwindled down, he found himself waiting out Sirius, but he was quite ready to go. Andromeda had updated him on Teddy, who was fast asleep in her bed and had been absolutely golden all night. Remus realized how weird it would be to sleep in their home alone tonight, and he wondered if he’d get any sleep at all. 

Finally, Sirius was done flirting his way through the party, and Remus was back at home. Before they left, he thanked Hermione and told her goodbye, but nothing more. He didn’t get her number. He didn’t imply that he wanted to see her again. He didn’t do anything that would indicate he had more than enjoyed his time with her this evening. He simply couldn’t do that. 

However, the effort he put into quelling the want to see her more was all for nought when he awoke the next morning to find himself in a group text with Harry, Sirius, and a number he didn’t recognize. 

**HP: Hi, all. We thought it’d be fun for a bunch of us to go ice skating Wednesday evening. We’ll have Victoire w/ us. Promised Bill & Fleur a date night. Remus, bring Teddy of course. Sirius and Hermione, you two are the best ice skaters I know, so be prepared to teach me. Haha. Let me or Gin know if you’re in.**

**SB: I’m in. I’ve tried to teach you though, Harry. You're bollocks at it.**

**Unknown Number: Sounds great! (Christmas tree emoji x 4)**

**RL: Teddy will be thrilled. See everyone then.**

He didn’t save her number. He refused to save it—be tempted to text her, to ask her how her day was, to see when she’d be around the school again, and on and on. 

He deleted the group text, too. There. Problem solved. 

He would be nice when they went ice skating, but he wouldn’t go out of his way to spend time with her. That would be easy to do, he’d be so focused on making sure Teddy wasn’t falling every five seconds.

Wednesday evening came and he and Teddy were the first to arrive at the rink. Teddy was bouncing on his heels next to him, his small gloved hand holding Remus’. The boy’s still blue, but fading, hair was poking out from his beanie, his cheeks and nose red, his smile wide and plastered onto his face. 

He looked up at Remus, “How much longer? I can’t wait to see Victoire! I can’t wait to skate! Do you think I’ll be okay at it? I don’t know how. Will I fall?”

Remus glanced at his watch, “Hmmmm. They should be here soon, I think. I think you’ll do just fine at skating, and, yes, you probably will fall, but that’s okay. I’ll probably fall, too.”

Teddy laughed at this and rested his head against this father’s arm.

Glancing around, Remus didn’t see anyone coming. He furrowed his brow and pulled out his phone, realizing he hadn’t checked it in awhile. A group text was on his screen.

**HP: Victoire is quite poorly. She just vomited all over the sofa. So sorry, mates. Will reschedule.**

**SB: I’m stuck at work. Thought I’d be done by now. Next time.**

_ Damn _ . Remus thought. He looked at the small boy leaning against him and knew that Teddy would be so disappointed. Just then he heard her voice, “Remus! Hi!” He glanced up from his phone and saw Hermione walking towards him. 

She crouched down and stuck out her hand to Teddy, “You must be Teddy. I’m Hermione.” 

Teddy set his hand in hers and shook it softly, “I’m Teddy! Yeah!” 

“I’m a friend of Harry’s and your dad’s. Nice to meet you.” She looked up at Remus and asked, “Where’s everyone else?” 

Remus took a deep breath, “Well...Victoire is sick and Sirius is at work, so it looks like they’ve all had to cancel.”

He heard Teddy gasp and grab onto his leg, “Daddy! No! I want to ice skate.” 

“I know, darling.” Remus sighed again and shrugged when he made eye contact with Hermione. 

He brushed strands of hair away from his son's forehead. “We can still ice skate, you and I. I’m sorry Victoire won’t be here though.”

The boy shrugged, “That’s okay. It'll still be fun with the three of us! Can we get hot chocolate later?”

He looked a bit concerned. “Three? Oh, Teddy. I don’t think Hermione will hang around. I’m sure she’s—”

Hermione, pulling up her hair into a knot on the top of her head, and fixing the scarf around her neck said, “I would love to ice skate with you, Teddy.” 

He watched as Hermione and Teddy chatted. She told him about how she learned to ice skate and how it was completely normal and fine to fall down. For some time it seemed as if Remus wasn’t even there. Teddy only turned his attention towards his father when he needed help with his skates. 

All too aware of his feelings, Remus was quiet. Hermione helped Teddy get onto the ice, to move his feet in the right pattern, and the two held hands as they skated. Remus was rusty when it came to skating, and, after some time, he felt warmed up enough to take his son’s other hand. The three skated slowly, having to steady the boy as he wobbled from time to time. 

Teddy, however, wasn’t the one who caused the trio to crash onto the ice. No, that was entirely Remus’ fault. He wasn’t sure how he fell or why he fell, but suddenly his arse had hit the hard ice and then the back of his head. Not long after that, Teddy’s body was next to him, followed by Hermione’s body  _ on top _ of him. 

Later, he’d try to figure out how exactly that happened—he supposed Teddy was holding so tightly onto her hand that when they fell, she swung around, toppling onto him. 

Before he fully registered her body on top of him, he registered Teddy’s next to him. “Teds, you alright?”

“Daddy, you just busted it!” Teddy then ripped into a fit of laughter.

Remus felt his cheeks flush, a combination of his embarrassment from falling and the fact that Hermione was still on top of him. 

“I’m sorry, Remus. Are you alright?” She was struggling to get up; her skates slipping beneath her and falling back down onto him, her chest pressed against his, their faces uncomfortably close. 

“Yes. I’m fine. Sorta. My back will be in quite a state tomorrow. Are you alright?”

Instead of trying to get up, she rolled off of him and onto her butt next to him. “I’m good," she said. 

Teddy chimed in, “Daddy has a bad back. He broke it in the mil’tree” 

Hermione managed to get up, holding out her hand to Remus to help him up. As he got up he slipped some again, and she caught him by the arms, their bodies, again, extremely close. “I did not break it,” Remus grumbled. 

Teddy, ignoring his father, had gotten himself up and was stomping on the ice, enjoying the marks his skated were making. “I’m going to try and write my name,” he said to no one in particular. 

He took Teddy’s hand and slowly skated off the rink, and they settled onto a bench with a sigh of relief. 

“You were in the military? You don’t seem to type. No offence," she said as she sat next to him on the bench. 

“None taken. I was, yes. It was more of a practical thing. I had no financial means of going to university. If I served a term, I would receive funds for schooling. I ended up thinking I’d make a career of it, but then I busted a few tendons in my lower back and, well, was discharged...to university I went. Like I’d originally wanted. It was just a means to an end.” 

He wrapped his arm around Teddy and pulled him close to him. “We need to get going soon, little man. You need food and a bath and then bed.” 

Teddy peeked over at Hermione, “Will you have dinner with us?” 

“Teddy…” Remus began, his voice low with warning. 

“Oh...I can’t tonight. I had a lot of fun with you, though. Thank you for skating with me.” She smiled at him and Remus wondered if she had plans or if she had just read Remus’ reaction. He felt a slight twinge of jealousy at the idea of her having plans with someone else, and he berated himself for his stupidity. 

Teddy hugged her goodbye when they went separate ways, and he talked about her the whole way back home and during dinner and during bathtime. It seemed that his son quite liked Hermione, too. 

As Remus settled into bed, his phone lit-up. There was a text from a number he didn’t have saved in his phone.

**Unknown Number: I had a lovely time. Teddy is the best.**

He knew it had to have been her. He let his thumbs rest over the screen for a long time before replying. First, however, he saved her number.  _ To hell with it, _ he thought. 

**RL: Thank you for spending your evening with an old man and a four-year-old. We both enjoyed ourselves. He talked about you all evening. He’s quite enamoured.**

**HG: The feeling is mutual. Goodnight, Remus.**

**RL: Goodnight, Hermione. Sleep well.**

The next day at work, Remus thought about Hermione all day. He was quite annoyed with that, actually, as he had so much to do before term ended, but she just wouldn’t go away. 

As if he had willed her into existence, he noted he had a message from her in the third hour. His planning wasn’t for another thirty minutes, and it was torture to wait to read what it said. As the last student left his class, he whipped out his phone to read what she’d texted.

**HG: How is your back today?**

**RL: It’s fine. It’s been much worse.**

**RL: Haha**

**RL: How are you?**

**HG: Oh, I’m doing well. I was just thinking about you and wanted to check in about your back.**

Remus stared at the phone in disbelief; she had been thinking about him. 

**RL: Well, thank you.**

**HG: You’re welcome.**

Forty minutes into his planning, and thirty-nine minutes since his last text he picked up his phone.

**RL: I have to do some shopping for Teddy. He’ll be with my mother-in-law for a few hours this evening. Would you like to join me for tea after?**

**HG: Sure! Actually, I have to do some shopping, myself. May I join you for that, too?**

**RL: Of course. I’ll be at Town Centre around 5.**

**HG: See you then.**

He typed “looking forward to it” but quickly erased it, unsure of himself, and got back to work. 

As he walked to Town Centre from his car, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. Stopping to look at himself, he frowned. He knew he wasn’t unattractive; he had never been unattractive, but he looked tired and worn-down and a bit ragged. Andromeda was always telling him to get himself some new trousers or shoes or coat, but he didn’t like to nor did he want to waste time or money on himself. 

His sandy-blonde hair was greying heavily at this point, and the beard he had decided to grow, mainly because he had grown tired of shaving, was a mix of strawberry blonde, brown, and grey. With one hand, he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face, trying to see if there was anything he could do to make himself look … younger, more handsome, less himself. He scoffed at his reflection and turned away from it, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. It didn’t matter. Hermione was a friend—she was very nice and very compassionate, and Remus convinced himself that the reason she was joining him was that she felt sorry for him, a lowly widower who disliked Christmas. Really, he thought, she probably felt sorry for Teddy and was wanting to make sure Remus truly indulged for Christmas on his behalf. 

He was pulled from his weary thoughts when he noticed her sitting on a bench, the same scarf from the other day before wrapped cosily around her neck and a book in her hand—  _ Jane Eyre.  _ Approaching her, she didn’t look up, and he felt his lips turn upwards in a smile. For a moment, he simply wanted to watch her read, to see the look on her face, the movement of her eyes across the pages. 

He cleared his throat to signal his arrival and said, “ I am no bird; and no net ensnares me…”

To his delight, she finished the quotation, “I am a free human being with an independent will.” She slipped a piece of paper into the book to mark her place and closed it, resting it on her lap, “So, you like  _ Jane Eyre _ ?”

He shook his head, “No. I saw that quotation one time on a tote bag in a bookstore. I thought it was remarkable.” He chuckled and smiled at her. It suddenly struck him that he was attempting to flirt, to be a bit funny. 

With a smile, she playfully rolled her eyes and stood up, “Well, I’m disappointed in you, Mr Lupin. I suppose I can’t spend my time with an English teacher who hasn’t read  _ Jane Eyre _ . It makes you seem like a fraud.” 

“Mmmm. Well, I’m sure lots of English teachers haven’t read it, but I was teasing. I have. I teach it. I’m teaching it at the moment.” 

“May I come and sit in on one of your classes then?” 

He barked out a laugh and shook his head vigorously, “No. No. That would be embarrassing. I’m … a bit different when I teach.” 

“How so?” she tilted her head to the side a bit, her curls falling loose from the knot at the back of her neck. Remus felt distracted by the piece of hair that framed her face. “How so?” she repeated.

“Oh. Well, I’m a bit more dramatic when I teach. It, you know, gets the students excited. It’s a bit exhausting, but it’s what works. Anyway, let’s walk." They began to walk and he spoke again, "That obviously is not your first read of the novel.”

Hermione shook her head, “No. No. I read it every Christmas. It was something my mum always did, and so I do it now, too.” She looked down for a moment as they walked, and, for the first time since he’d met her, her face looked sad and bothered.

Nudging her arm with his elbow slightly, he motioned towards a candy shop. “They have the best hot chocolate. Let’s get some. Have a seat. Talk a bit.”

Nodding, she followed him into the crowded candy shop. He insisted she sit down, and he ordered them both a drink.  _ Friends, _ he reminded himself.  _ It’s just me being nice and buying her hot chocolate because it’s cold and because friends are allowed to buy one another hot chocolate. Sirius buys me hot chocolate all the time. It’s no big deal. Yes, well, Sirius also isn’t a beautiful woman.  _ He laughed at himself and joined her at a small table by a window, where they could see the passersby, the kids laughing and running with snowballs, the couples holding hands, the men bustling about with bags, and so on. 

“You told me that you don’t like Christmas. How can you not like Christmas?” she gestured to the window. “Look at all that happiness. The warmth. The love.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s like I said. The holidays were never like this when I was growing up. It’s...we didn’t have the money for it. My parents...I think they saw me more like a burden than anything until I was old enough to work, and then I was just another person to pay bills. When I met Dora, she got me to come around some. You know? I felt like I had a chance at a family, and then we had Teddy. We...gosh, Hermione, you don’t want to hear this.”

She reached out and rested her hand upon his arm, “I do. As long as you want to talk about it.”

“I’ve never really talked about it much. I’ve been sort of in survival mode for a while. I’m okay now. I miss her, of course. But, I miss the potential, you know, the fact that Teddy missed out on knowing her. She died four months after his second birthday. We only got one Christmas as the three of us. He was only eight months then. And, ah, God, admittedly, I’ve just been doing a lot of faking each holiday for Teddy. I’ve never told anyone that. I’m sorry. 

“Don’t be. Please,” she smiled warmly at him, her hand still resting upon his arm, and she squeezed his arm gently. 

“Remus, I know I had only met him yesterday, but Teddy seems like a very happy and wonderful little boy. But, I think you should learn to enjoy Christmas. For  _ yourself. _ ” 

He swallowed hard and looked around the room feeling a bit uncomfortable with all he just shared but also relieved with having shared it. It was true that he missed his wife, but Remus had learned that he couldn’t cling onto her. Sirius often assumed that the reason Remus wasn’t dating anyone or didn’t care to date anyone was that Remus was unwilling to let go of Dora. That wasn’t the case. Remus simply was unwilling to let someone else into Teddy’s life unless they were going to be the perfect fit. Teddy deserved the perfect fit. 

He had found, through watching others, that the dating world was not what it used to be—to him, people were flighty, and they didn’t seem to want long-term committed relationships; it seemed to be far more about shagging and partying. Remus was forty-two years old and had a four-year-old son. Not to mention, finding a partner again, finding someone to love him wasn’t a priority, Teddy was. 

As the evening passed and he and Hermione shopped, picked out gifts for Teddy, for friends of hers, and coworkers, Remus grew increasingly happy and increasingly scared. It became apparent to him that she was something quite different. He didn’t know what. He wasn’t about to analyze it, for his own sake, but he knew that she was different. This bothered him. This shook up his whole life’s routine. 

Not knowing how to proceed, he told himself that he wasn’t going to see her again unless it was something to do with the student’s she was working with, but, then, before they parted their ways, she asked him what he was doing over the weekend; he told her that he and Teddy were getting a tree and that he was worried about it because he was dreadful at decorating and this was the year that his sweet boy was likely to remember very well. 

Hermione smiled widely and put her hand on his shoulder, “Well, as you might guess, I am quite excellent at Christmas decor, so if you need any advice, you can always text me pictures of the progress, and I’ll try and help you along. I have some work to do at the Women's Centre in the morning, but I'll be around all afternoon and evening. 

He nodded with a smile, “Alright. Will do.” 

She leaned into him and hugged him, her arms around his neck. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her, embracing her. Pulling back, she pressed a warm, chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Have a good night, Remus." Her eyes seemed to sparkle when she smiled at him, and when she left him, he missed her. 

—

Somehow, that Saturday, Teddy had convinced his father to purchase a truly gigantic Christmas tree. Remus knew that he didn’t have enough lights or baubles or popcorn to decorate it, but his son had looked so bloody happy when he saw that tree that Remus couldn’t refuse.

He set it up on his own, and it took him a lot longer than he expected to get it into a tree stand. Once he had cleaned up all the needles, Teddy, standing on the sofa, which he wasn’t actually allowed to do, looked down into the box of lights and ornaments and said, “Daddy? This isn’t nearly enough stuff. This won’t cover our tree.”

Remus looked at his son; the boy was wearing his pyjamas, even though it was three in the afternoon; when they got home, Teddy insisted that he needed to be in his pyjamas, drinking hot chocolate, and listening to Christmas music while they decorated the tree. 

He scowled, "Sure it is.” 

“Definitely not. Come look!” he exclaimed pointing down into the box. 

Crossing the room to his son, he stood on the other side of the box and looked down at the two strings of white lights and box of fifteen or so ornaments. “Hmmm. Perhaps, you’re right.” 

Teddy crossed his arms and jumped down onto his bottom on the sofa. “This stinks. Our tree is beautiful and we have nothing for it.” He pouted, making a rotten face at his father.

Remus gave him a stern look, “That’s not fair, Teddy. You chose a really big tree. We got the best tree there. We’ll just have to wait and go to the store tomorrow for lights and ornaments. You can pick some out.” 

Teddy looked like he was about to pitch a royal fit when his father gave him “the look”. Sighing, he turned and pressed his face into the cushion. 

Remus sat next to Teddy on the opposite end of the couch and sighed.  _ Bollocks.  _ He felt guilty about it all and was about to suggest they watch  _ Home Alone  _ when his phone chimed in his pocket. It was from Hermione. He hesitated to open it. He had told himself he wasn’t going to text her or contact her, but, well, she had contacted him. So, he supposed it didn’t count as breaking his own rule.

**HG: How’s the tree coming along?** **  
** **RL: Not good. Picked out the biggest tree. But...our decorations are slim. T is not happy.**

**HG: Uh-oh.**

**HG: What’s your plan?**

**RL: Well, unless you just so happen to have a gigantic box full of extra decorations I can buy off of you, I will probably succumb to his sadness and we’ll be heading to the store.**

**HG: Well…**

A picture came through and Remus laughed a bit when he saw she’d sent him a picture of a box full of ornaments and lights. 

**HG: Does this work?**

**RL: How much do I owe you?** **  
** **HG: Hot chocolate. Christmas music. Maybe popcorn. And maybe I can help decorate.**

**RL: You and Teddy are identical. He requested the same thing earlier. Except he wanted to be in his pyjamas, too.**

**HG: I suppose I can wear my pyjamas.**

  
Remus pulled his lips into his mouth and grimaced.  _ Is she flirting? She’s flirting. Do I flirt back? I am too old for this.  _

**RL: Haha. No, no. It’s too cold to go out in pyjamas.**

**HG: I guess I won't wear my skimpy ones then.**

He let his head fall back against the sofa.  _ She is flirting. What do I say to that?  _

Teddy noticed the thud of his father's head and pulled his head out from the cushion. His face was significantly less angry than it had been. 

"I'm sorry I got angry, Daddy. I just really wanted to decorate the tree," his bright blue eyes were swollen with tears, and Remus motioned for him to come to him. He crawled over to him, nuzzling his soft baby face into the crook of Remus' neck. 

"You remember Hermione, Teds?" 

The little boy's head popped up. "Yeah!"

"She may have some decorations for us. Would you like it if she brought them by?"

He climbed onto his father’s lap and placed his small hands on the Remus’ cheeks, making sure he was looking at his son directly. Seriously he asked, "Can she help decorate?"

"If she wants to."

Teddy made a face and said, "Course she does. She loves Christmas, too!" before jumping up and running into the next room, "I'm gonna draw her a picture!"

Remus smiled and looked down at his phone. He'd forgotten to respond. She'd texted him twice. 

**HG: I'm so sorry. That was inappropriate.**

**HG: I'll drop the box off on your porch or I can leave it on my porch for you.**

He imagined her sitting in her home berating herself for the text, knowing if the roles were reversed he would have done the exact same. 

**RL: No need to apologise. Got distracted by T. He is all about you coming over. Insists that you decorate.**

**HG: Haha. Address?**

Teddy drew Hermione five or so pictures before she got there, while Remus paced. He then began tidying up, looking in his fridge and surveying what he possibly had to offer her, tidying up what he had just tidied up. 

When there was a knock at the door, Teddy yelled excitedly, "HERMIONE!" And scurried to the door, leaving markers and paper in his wake. The boy fidgeted with the lock on the door before growing frustrated, placing both hands on the knob and pulling. His little body trying so hard to yank open the locked door. 

"Ease up," Remus said with a smile as he unlocked the door, letting Teddy pull it open. 

Hermione stood at their door with a giant cardboard box in her hands and a bag on her shoulder. 

"You're a Christmas Angel! Aren't you?" Teddy jumped up and down as he spoke. 

Remus made an uncertain face at her as if to apologize for his child's intensity. He knew that Teddy probably only seemed extreme to him, and to her, he just seemed like a little boy. 

"Come on in." 

Teddy followed after her, "We have the biggest tree. But Daddy has no decorations. He can make us hot chocolate and popcorn while we decorate." 

It took him an extremely long time to put all the lights on the tree. There wasn't anything for Hermione or Teddy to do while he did that, so Teddy showed her around and then the two settled on the floor. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her dump out the bag she'd brought. 

"Whoa! Whassalldis?" he heard his son ask through a mouthful of popcorn. 

"We're going to make ornaments and decorations." 

"Wif' pompomps?!?" 

"Teddy! Don't talk with your mouth full, son." 

Teddy smiled at his father, his cheeks like a chipmunk's full of popcorn.

Admittedly, Remus was growing irritated with putting on lights. He was having to bend in odd ways which were making his backache, the tree was sticky and itchy, and he was just tired of it. He did, however, enjoy listening to Hermione and Teddy's conversation. He told her about Drommie, his friends at school, his favourite book, why his hair was blue, and how great he thought his father was at making chicken nuggets and macaroni & cheese. 

Once Remus had ended his torture by finishing the lights, the trio decorated the tree. Remus lifting Teddy up to hang certain ornaments, Teddy growing weary of it and sitting back and watching the adults—commenting on how much he liked the tree. A few times, Hermione would end up being close to Remus, her arm brushing his, their hands crossing paths, their bodies skimming each other as they switched sides. 

He ordered them all a pizza, and before long Teddy was asleep on the floor underneath his favourite blanket by the newly decorated tree.

Once Remus knew he was fast asleep, he leaned towards Hermione, who was sitting on the other end of the sofa and whispered, "I'm going to carry him to bed."

"I need to go. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stay so late," she went to stand up, but he reached out towards her, touching her arm lightly with his fingertips. 

"You don't have to go if you'd like to stay. Once he's out, he's out. It will only take me a moment._

He got up from the couch and glanced back at her, "But if you want to go, of course, that's fine."

"I don't." Her voice was low now. 

He nodded and scooped up his son. Remus thought of how long he was getting, and he had to manoeuvre around the house to not knock Teddy's feet on door frames.

When he returned, he sat next to Hermione a bit closer than before. He stared at the tree and then looked over at her and said, "Thank you so much for everything tonight. All this has made Teddy so happy. I never could have pulled it off."

She patted his leg gently, "Oh, come on now. Teddy would have loved anything you two did."

"Yes, but you did an exceptionally good job. Granted, it set the bar high for every Christmas here on out though." He smiled at her. 

She laughed quietly and shrugged, and they then settled into a comfortable silence. Tentatively he felt her inch closer to him. Her arm almost pressed completely against his. 

She turned towards him, and he realized just how much closer she was now. "Really, though, thank  _ you _ . I love Christmas so much but most of the time I spend the season alone. Everyone has their own families in one way or another, you know? So, it was nice to be a part of something so special and intimate."

Her hand found his, and she laced their fingers together. It was simple and innocent, but Remus was filled with a nervousness that permeated through his entire being. He looked over at her, the lights from the Christmas tree reflecting in her eyes. 

In a low, timid voice he said, “I’m glad you texted me. I would have never texted you. It had to be you to do it.” 

She nodded, leaning in closer to him, and whispered, “I know.” 

Their lips were only a few inches apart now. He could smell her perfume, something that smelled faintly of rose and oranges—the scent was warming. She also smelled of the Christmas tree and chocolate, remnants of their evening.

In a voice, almost lower than before, almost inaudibly, he confessed, “I’ve not kissed anyone in…”

With a warm touch, she pressed her index finger to his lips and shook her head, stopping him from speaking. She let her hand fall onto his lap, resting it gently against his thigh. He searched her eyes and leaned forward, almost kissing her.

“I’d very much like to kiss you, Hermione.”

“It’s a shame there’s no mistletoe above us then,” she teased.

He shrugged a bit, “I guess we’ll have to do without.”

“We will,” she nodded in agreeance.

Remus, his heart pounding in his ears, closed the gap between them. Pressing his lips against hers, softly, questioningly, he kissed her. 

Truly, he had thought he would never have to have a first-kiss again; that he was too old to be so nervous about kissing someone, but he was also thrilled to be kissing her, to feel her lips, soft and light, against his own. He felt happy, giddy even. He  _ liked _ this woman; she liked him, and it had been so long since he’d felt the excitement of touching someone, of being near a person whose energies bounced and reflected off of his very own.

It was such a simple kiss, but it was so significant to him. He didn’t know how to explain to her what she meant, what it all meant, how risky it all was; how much of himself he was revealing—he felt as if he had been spilt onto the floor for her, a glass of water knocked accidentally over. 

“I was wondering…” she began after they’d broken apart. “If you and Teddy would like to go see the Christmas lights tomorrow evening. The people in my neighbourhood go all out. I can make dinner." 

She paused to take his hand again, "I’d like that. To see you and to see Teddy soon.”

He smiled, his hand found a place on her cheek, letting his thumb gently caress her warm skin. “That sounds great. He would enjoy that. I would also enjoy that.”

“Wonderful. I’m going to head home, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Walking her to the door, her hand in his, he bent down to kiss her goodbye, smiling to himself as she parted for the evening.

—

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Remus, Hermione, and Teddy were almost inseparable. He found that Hermione had more Christmas ideas and activities than anyone he’d ever known, and Teddy enjoyed every second of it. They’d watched every Christmas movie imaginable, made loads of biscuits—Remus was certain he’d gained weight over the past few weeks, sang carols, wrote a letter to Santa Claus, made hot chocolate from scratch—none of the packet stuff for Hermione and Teddy, and the two seemed to harbour a secret about a gift for him. Things felt good. 

The evening Teddy fell asleep with his head in Hermione’s lap, her fingers absently running through his son’s bright green hair, which she’d helped dye for Christmas, he knew. He knew he loved her. _ How could I not?  _ he thought, as he watched the pair of them on the other end of the couch. 

She had very quickly and very naturally became a part of their lives. There had been no rules set, no labels placed upon them. It had, after all, only been a few weeks since he’d known her. They hadn’t even spent much time alone together. Remus was quite certain he was being absolutely foolish, but he felt intoxicated by everything—the holiday, which he was shocked by, the happiness of his son, and, of course, just her in general. This was perhaps why he had ended up allowing himself to feel the way he felt, and why he had let Andromeda talk him into letting Teddy spend the night with her the Saturday before Christmas. 

As it turned out, she was a big fan of Hermione, and not just because of how great she was with Teddy, but because of the impact she had had on Remus. The older woman suggested that he take Hermione out on a proper date, one without Teddy. He had protested.

“Yes, but Teddy is part of me. Teddy and I are a package.”

Andromeda rolled her eyes and huffed at him, “Of course! But I’d like some one-on-one time with my grandson. It has nothing to do with you anyhow. You can choose to spend the night however you like, I suppose. You could see Sirius. You could sulk in your house all alone and read. You could take that lovely woman on a date.” She raised her eyebrows at him, and he knew that look—the look that meant she knew she was right, and one that said, “you know I’m right, too.” 

When he approached Hermione with the notion her response was, “Are you sure? Without Teddy?” 

He laughed a bit and smiled, “Yes. I have to admit it would be nice to spend some time with you...alone.” 

Up to this point, they’d ended their evenings with kisses on the couch, hushed whispers, and parting from one another feeling a touch frustrated but still pleased and happy. Remus always found he was excited for the moments before she left, the moments he got to kiss her. 

They had yet to kiss in front of Teddy, Remus was unwilling to do anything like that until he was certain of what they were and where they were going. He and Hermione hadn’t discussed that, she just seemed to naturally understand the sensitivity of the situation. 

Tonight, however, Remus mused in excitement, they’d be  _ alone _ —they’d be alone  _ all night. _ She could, if she wanted, spend the night. It wasn’t as if Remus hadn’t thought about doing much much more than kissing Hermione, he had, but he just hadn’t seen it plausible soon, but now it was—again if it was something she wanted. 

Suddenly, he was quite unsure of himself. The old familiar insecurities creeping up. He knew she liked him when he was around Teddy, playing the role of father. But, what if she didn’t like him on his own, what if she didn’t care for  _ just  _ Remus.

They found themselves at dinner enjoying appetizers and wine, and he felt as if everything was going quite well. He was feeling confident and assured in not just his feelings for her but hers for him as well. 

Hermione was in a beautifully giddy state due to having a bit too much wine. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and he found her so very charming. 

When he left to use the restroom, he returned to find a familiar-looking man talking to Hermione. Hermione was laughing, and looking up him—whoever he was. 

Returning to the table, she happily said, “Remus! You’re back. Lovely! You remember, Cormac, from the party, yes?”

Remus nodded slowly, “The doorman.” 

“Yes!” Cormac responded, “I’m Hermione’s whipping boy at work and at her parties, it seems.” 

Cormac looked back and forth between the two, Remus trying not to scowl at the young man. “Well, I’ll be off,” he finally said, “You two enjoy your evening. See you Monday, Hermione.”

She rolled her eyes once he’d left, “Thank God. I was worried he’d hang around.” 

“Oh?” Remus inquired.

“He asked me out a few months ago. I turned him down, but he still seems a bit weird, you know?” She shrugged, clearly to her it was insignificant, and Remus tried to tell himself that it was, desperate to not let this small occurrence ruin their evening. He was mostly successful at this, however, it lingered vaguely in the back of his mind. 

“So,” Hermione said, leaning forward, pressing herself against the edge of the table. “What are we going to do with the rest of our evening?” She raised her eyebrows in interest.

“What do you have in mind?” He asked back. 

“Hmmm. Perhaps we could go back to your place for...dessert?” 

He laughed at her comment, “Are you propositioning me, Miss Granger?”

“Oh. Indeed I am.” her smile was wickedly sexy, and Remus was quick to pay their bill and get out of the restaurant. 

—

In the quietness of his bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers tapping on his knees. Hermione came into the room and stood in the doorway, she'd let her hair out of its clasp and it fell around her shoulders and down her back. She stepped towards him and turned her back to him, looking over her shoulder she said, "Unzip me, please." 

He raised a hand to the top of her dress, his other hand resting pleasantly at her waistline, and he slowly pulled down the zipper. He found that he was holding his breath as he exposed her skin, she had sparse freckles on her back, several peeking out from beneath the band of her bra, which was scarlet and lace. 

The zip stopped right above her arse, and he watched as she slipped her arms out of the dress, letting the fabric pool at their feet. He stared—he couldn't help it—at the curve of her waist, and how it gave way to her arse and hips. Her underwear matched her bra, and he could see her skin through the lace. She turned towards him, standing between his legs, his face level with her breasts resting in the cups of her bra; her nipples had pebbled and in spaces between lace he could see that they were a dusty pink. His mouth watered with the want to lean forward and suck one into his mouth, the feel the fabric against his teeth, to taste her skin on his tongue. 

The tips of her fingers rested against his neck, and she moved one hand up into and through his hair. Her touch was everything at that moment, even with something as simple as her fingers in his hair, and he felt himself begin to slip away. 

It had been a very long time since he'd been with a woman and an extremely long time since he had been with someone for the first time. He had never doubted his abilities to please Dora, but, then again, he had been afforded years to learn her. Now he had nothing to go on; he felt unsure of himself, and he was grateful that Hermione was taking the lead. 

She climbed onto his lap, straddling him, and kissed him. This kiss was unlike what they'd shared before; this was magnetic and consuming; this was hungry and raw. Her teeth sank into his bottom lip, he sucked on her tongue, and they took turns running their tongues along each other's lips. She ran her tongue teasingly against his ear and jawline. Pressed against his trousers, his cock strained. He knew that it was leaky and needy, and he had no clue when he had come last. When she ground herself against him, he was certain he would come right then, but, to his relief, he didn't. 

Warningly, he whispered, "The moment you touch me I'm going to burst."

She grinned at him and replied, "Then burst. We have all night."

Her words themselves almost did him in, but, in the end, it wasn't her touching him that did him in. 

It was when he touched her. 

Somehow, while kissing, she'd rolled onto her back with Remus above her. He let his hands graze her belly and thighs, but he had yet to touch her anywhere else. With his lips against her collar bone, his hand rubbing her inner thigh, she whined for him to touch her everywhere; she slid off her knickers and revealed herself to him. But it wasn't the feel of her velvety cunt, not the warm wetness of it either that sent him over the edge. 

As two of his fingers pressed into her, she whimpered for him and because of him. The sound of it, of her pleasure, of her lips trembling out a mewl caused him to press his face against the sheets of the bed, groaning louder than he anticipated, and pulsing his fingers inside her as he came. 

Ignoring the remnants of his orgasm, he moved down the bed and slipped between her thighs, nibbling on the sensitive skin of her thighs. When he pressed his tongue against her clit, he completely forgot any worry of him coming so quickly and was lost in the bittersweet taste of her. Listening to her moans and breaths, he found he had her on the brink of coming by sucking on her clit while thrumming his fingers inside her. She bucked her hips when she came, and, with his free hand, he gripped onto her hip, pulling her to him. Greedily he lapped at her labia as he pulled his fingers out of her, moaning at her taste.

He rested his head against her hip bone, and she let her hands rest on his shoulders. Eventually, he moved up beside her and they kissed and touched and she worked him until he was finally hard again, warm and sticky in her hand. She pulled him on top of her, his cock resting against her belly. Her lips met his neck and she continued to stroke him. His mouth found her nipple and he sucked it between his teeth, groaning as she tugged him roughly. With her breast his mouth, he came again, the moans were muffled against her skin, and his orgasm spilt across her belly. 

Moments later he shook his head as he got up, making his way to the bathroom. "Let’s clean you up." 

She snickered as he ran a warm washcloth against her skin, "You're such a gentleman, and that tickles.” 

He laughed, too, "It's only fair considering I came all over you like a hormonal teenager."

The pair fell asleep quickly, and, later, Remus awoke in the quiet darkness, and despite the hours spent with Hermione, Remus was suddenly very aware of the emptiness of his home, of Teddy’s absence. His heart pounded in his chest. 

He wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay with Teddy not being there— with Teddy being sent-off to his grandmother’s so his father could get laid. He felt disgusted in himself. 

His rational brain knew that was not what was happening, that he was not being selfish, that Teddy loved getting to spend the night with Drommie, that it was good for his son to be away from him some, but, still, Remus was overwhelmed and wrought with guilt. He felt as if he’d abandoned his son for his own personal wants. 

Suddenly, sitting up, he got dressed, pulling on pyjama bottoms and a jumper. Hermione stirred in the bed and said, “What’s wrong?”

Without looking at her he said, “I can’t do this,” and walked out of his bedroom and into the living room.

Within minutes, Hermione joined him. She’d gotten dressed—looking a bit out of place in her nice dress with her hair unkempt and wild from their time in bed. 

“You can’t do what, Remus?” she inquired.

He gestured between himself and her, “You and me. We can’t do this. We can’t go out and drink and come back here and romp around like teenagers.”

“I’m...I’m sorry. It was your...your idea,” she seemed so very hurt and confused by this sudden shift, and Remus felt like a bastard for it. 

He pressed his palms to his forehead; his voice strained with frustration and disappointment in himself. “I know! But it was stupid. Don't you get it, Hermione? I have to think about Teddy. Everything is for Teddy. It doesn't matter what makes  _ me _ happy. I cannot be selfish in any capacity. Us not being together...it's what is best for him. He can't take another loss when you meet someone else or you grow weary of having a kid hanging around all the time. You should...you should be with that Cormac fellow we saw tonight. Someone young and virile and without baggage." His jealousy from earlier came seeping out of him without thought. 

"My God, Remus. Cormac? Really? What are you on about anyway?” 

He shrugged, taking a step away from her, leaning against the wall. He was tired and sad, and it hurt to look at her. 

Groaning, he continued to speak, “This isn’t fair to anyone. I shouldn’t feel how I feel about you, especially not so quickly. It’s irrational and stupid and unfair to you. You also deserve someone that can have a fresh start. Not someone with a dead wife and a child. And, Teddy? He loves you, and it’s not fair to him. This is all too risky. I can’t risk hurting him. We cannot do this. This has to stop. I can’t see you anymore.” 

The two stood quietly for a long time, and finally, she spoke; her voice was soft, shaky with emotion, "I love him, too, you know.” 

She continued, her eyes locking with his, "I don't just love you. I fell in love with Teddy and Remus Lupin—together, as one."

He stared at her for a moment and blinked away, looking past her and at the Christmas tree. The large coloured bulbs. The ornaments she'd helped his son make.

She spoke again, "But if that's not enough... if you don't believe me or don't have faith in me then... I'll go. I understand that you will always do what's best for him, as you should, as I expect you to. I just wish…" she began to cry, this time, letting the tears fall—slow, large drops rolling down her cheeks. 

She let out a slow breath to steady herself. "I just wish that you thought I was or that I could be what is best for him." Forcing a small smile, she grabbed her peacoat from the back of the sofa and made her way to the front door. 

He wanted to stop her from going. She’d just told him that she loved him, that she loved Teddy, and yet he was unwilling to say anything, to stop her. He was frozen, paralyzed with an aching fear. He watched as she turned and waved a sad, deflated goodbye, watched as she shut the door behind her, listened as the door to her car opened and shut, listened as her engine cranked up, and he felt tears begin to swell when he finally saw her headlights flash their goodbye in the window.

Deep in his heart, Remus knew that she was what was best, not just for Teddy, but for himself, too. That's what scared him, what worried him the most. Teddy loved Hermione. Children grew attached so very quickly—they can fall in love with a person within moments sometimes, not knowing that there’s so much more to consider. 

Remus felt foolish for the way he felt for Hermione, and he wasn’t sold on how she felt about him, this was par for the course for him, though. He had doubted how much Dora had loved him in the beginning too, unable to accept that someone could love him so fully. To Remus, It was unreasonable for adults to fall in love so quickly. Unheard of. Or was it? Hadn’t he felt similarly for Dora? That instant moment of,  _ Oh _ .  _ You are...something else. _ Why was he so willing to write it off now, when back then he let himself fall into it so easily and effortlessly? 

Well, he thought, the issue was that he wasn't sure he was healed, or if he'd ever be. Not to mention, he felt so very guilty towards his late-wife. What did loving Hermione mean in terms of his marriage with Dora? He knew, truly knew, that it meant nothing; he was completely certain that if Dora had still been alive, Hermione wouldn’t have been anything more than another person, another friend of Harry’s, another compassionate human working with high school students. If Dora had still been alive, he wouldn’t have been broken and weary and tired when he met Hermione. Well, he mused, he would still probably be tired, but a good sort of tired—the tired that comes from putting one-hundred percent of yourself into your child, another one-hundred percent into your marriage, and another one-hundred percent into your job; tired but absurdly happy and content. 

Remus had not been content since Dora had died. He had had brief moments of pure happiness, these instances always involved Teddy but those moments were always tinted with hues of sorrow, thinking of how Dora should be there, too.

He sat on the couch, the glow of the coloured Christmas lights taunting him. In frustration, he got up and unplugged them, sitting back down in the darkness of his living room. He laid on the couch, angry with himself. More than anything, he wanted to go get Teddy. He missed him, and Teddy was a constant source of happiness. He wished he could, but he couldn’t. He wanted to call Hermione, to apologise, but he couldn’t. He was resolutely stubborn, and also certain that had to be making the best decision. It was much safer to not be involved with her. 

He eventually fell into a fitful sleep and when he woke in the morning part of him had hoped Hermione would have messaged him, called him—not even to reconcile, he would have been okay with her yelling at him, telling him how stupid he was. It was Christmas Eve and, once again, he wasn’t looking forward to explaining her absence to Teddy.

—

When he told Teddy that they wouldn’t see Hermione on Christmas Eve or Christmas, the boy seemed suspicious and unwilling to believe that she just wouldn’t be around at all. He thought his father was being ridiculous. Of course, they’d see her, he had said. She and Drommie were going to help him make cookies for Santa. 

Thankfully, as the day progressed, it was easy for Teddy to be somewhat distracted by the lack of Hermione’s presence. They had several visitors in and out of their house as they prepared for dinner—Sirius was more than enough to distract him, but Remus could read the sadness on his son’s face when Hermione wasn’t there to make cookies with him. He tried to seem excited for Drommie, and Remus knew the boy was only pretending, to not hurt his grandmother’s feelings. 

That night, as Remus tucked him into bed Teddy looked up at him, his eyes filled with tears, “Can I change what I ask Santa for?” 

Remus shrugged, “I suppose, but he’s already out visiting other children. He may not be able to get you the toy you want from the elves.”

“It’s not a toy, Daddy. I want Hermione. She is so nice and fun and she loves you. We both talked about how you’re the best. She has to be here tomorrow. She just has to.” 

Remus, feeling himself on the verge of tears, nodded his head, pressing his teeth between his lips. “Get some rest, darling. Santa won’t come if we’re awake.” He kissed his son’s forehead and slipped downstairs to sit with Sirius and Andromeda. 

Entering the living room he was met with angry eyes.

Sirius was the first to speak, “You’re being a bloody daft stupid bloke.” 

Andromeda nodded, “What he said. That woman loves you. Don’t lose her.” 

Remus hadn’t told them much of anything, but both had put it together and seemed to have conspired against him. “What if she doesn’t really love me? What if ...what if she decides she doesn’t want me? What if Teddy gets hurt in the process of this stupid Christmas romance. It’s probably all just residual of the holiday. People want to be in love. They want a partner.” 

Sirius looked up at the ceiling and let out a long exaggerated sigh, “For someone so smart, you are so stupid.” 

This time Andromeda scowled at Sirus before turning back to Remus. “There’s a lot of unknowns, Remus..” she began “You can’t predict the future. But, you’ve been through so much. I know you’re thinking of Dora, but she...she would want you to be happy. And get off of it about Christmas being the reason. Hermione would have the same effect on you in March.”

“Yes, maybe, but Teddy…” 

Sirius chimed in again, “Blimey, mate, Hermione  _ loves  _ Teddy and you, even if you are a sad-sack who lives off of dinosaur chicken nuggets.” 

“Yes, she did wonders for your diet, I will say. That is a big plus,” she joked and Remus chuckled a little, his laugh tinged with tears. 

He felt his shoulders sink as he spoke, “So what do I do now?”

Sirius gave him a look of frustration, “You run to her. You confess your love. You apologize for being so stupid. You shag on the snowy winter street..well, maybe not the last part.” 

Remus looked around the room, gathering his thoughts and looking at the clock on the wall. “Can one of you stay here? I think I need to speak to her. I’ll be quick.”

Andromeda nodded, “Of course. I’ll stay. Go.” 

—

Half an hour later, he found himself at her doorstep. He was cold, as he hadn't thought through his outfit for the weather; he had slipped on his bedroom slippers, flung his coat over jeans and a t-shirt. Despite how cold he was, he still stood there for a few minutes, gathering his nerve, collecting his thoughts, bracing himself for the fact that might...well, she might reject him.

He wrapped his fingers around the knocker and knocked three times. He licked his lips and immediately regretted it as the cold air chapped his lips. Suddenly, he was hit with a blast of warmth as Hermione opened her front door. She looked so beautiful to him in her pyjamas, her glasses on, her hair loose and free. 

She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it. "Before you shut the door on me, first let me apologise for yesterday. I'm so very sorry for the things I said. I am...God, I am so scared of you. You make me feel things I haven't felt in a long time. You give me hope for a bright and happy future together and with Teddy. I don't  _ like  _ having hope; with hope comes the possibility for sorrow. My worry, it doesn't excuse yesterday. I should have talked to you about it. I've realized in the past twenty-four hours without you that…" he stepped forward, reaching out, and, to his relief, she placed her hand in his. 

"You are worth the possibility of sorrow. To wake up and know you exist in my life and my son's life is worth every risk we might be taking. I know this is sudden, extremely so, but perhaps…. perhaps this is just how some things work. Some things fall into place quickly and neatly and sincerely.”

He let out a breath, "Hermione, I love you. So, I've come to ask you if you would have me as your partner. To be together tomorrow on Christmas morning and next year and the next because, blimey, Lord knows I can't decorate a tree as well as you.” 

She laughed and he noticed tears round down her cheeks. Nodding, she stepped out into the cold with him and wrapped her arms around him. In his ear, she whispered, "Yes. I'll have you, and I love you, too."

Pulling away he kissed her forehead and her cheek and then her lips. 

She squeezed him around the middle lovingly and said "You need to get going. Santa will be stopping in soon. Everyone needs to be asleep. Including you.” 

He smiled and laughed softly, "That is true. I'll see you in the morning, then?" He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears. 

"I wouldn't miss it. Text me the moment he wakes up; I'll be right over." 

He kissed her again before turning and heading back home—his heart lighter but fuller. 

—

Teddy ran into his room and climbed into bed with him 5:36 am. Remus had been awake for while, patiently waiting for his son to wake up. 

"Has Santa come, Daddy?" His voice was an excited whisper. 

Remus shrugged, pulling the boy into an embrace underneath the covers. "Want to go and check?" 

"Yes! No. Wait! Morning routine first. Pee. Brush teeth!" His son exclaimed and ran to the bathroom. 

Remus checked his phone, as he listened to his son excitedly humming in the bathroom, and saw that Hermione had texted him twenty minutes prior. 

**HG: Is he not up yet? I'm patiently waiting. Haha.**

**RL: We will all need a nap later. I was up an hour ago. He’s finally up. See you soon.**

Once Remus told him that Hermione would be by shortly, Teddy refused to open a single present without her there. Instead, the two Lupin men made pancakes, coffee, and hot chocolate for Teddy, but it was more of Remus making breakfast and Teddy running around wildly while guessing what was in each package. 

Hermione arrived and the day moved slowly— languidly and luxuriously. Each moment seemed significant. Each second accounted for.

By the end of the day, the little boy was exhausted, and he willingly and happily got into his bed, clutching some of his beloved presents in his arms as he fell asleep. 

Hermione and Remus sat on the couch; his arm strewn around her shoulder as she leaned into him. Both were quiet but content; neither had anything to say or ask or worry or wonder and slowly Hermione fell asleep on him, her cheek pressed to his chest. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt secure in the future. He had once been unsure of the world, certain that happiness was a present, one that was given only to be left behind glass—to be stared at, to be envied, to be longed for. It was a gift that was given again and again, but this time he knew that it was one to admire, to appreciate, and to be patient for the moment when you find it resting in the palm of your hand. 

Breathing in the warmth of the holiday, Remus pressed his lips to the top of Hermione’s head, and whispered with a smile, "Happy Christmas, Hermione.”


End file.
